


Cut

by Crockzilla



Series: Domesti-Kink with Spideypool [29]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Fear Play, Hair Kink, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Power Exchange, Size Kink, hair cutting kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 07:07:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13542267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crockzilla/pseuds/Crockzilla
Summary: Peter scares the hell out of Wade. Wade scares him back.





	Cut

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImSoVain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImSoVain/gifts).



> This is NOT what I was supposed to post today but I wrote it in a fit of passion over the weekend and I think it will make all you precious folks happy.

“What’s your biggest fear?”

Peter looked up at him, stricken. “Not like a For Realzies Fear,” Wade quickly amended, knowing that they shared the same For Realzies Fear (someone they loved dying because of them [again]) and he didn’t like for Spidey to think about such things. “Like your biggest Silly Fear. Mine is choking to death in the bathroom.”

Peter’s expression went from stricken to puzzled. “Why would you be eating in the bathroom?”

Oh. Wade sighed and shook his head – if Peter didn’t know, he couldn’t explain it to him. “What’s yours, then?”

Peter blushed. It was slight, but Wade caught it. “I don’t know,” he said, averting his eyes, “like, being naked in public or something.”

“Bullshit,” Wade said with a grin, and Spidey’s deepening blush let him know he was right. “What is it, really?”

“It’s stupid,” Peter said in a smallish voice. “You’ll think I’m an asshole.”

Wade was pretty sure he would never think Peter was an asshole. An adorable little shit, perhaps, but never an asshole. He began poking him repeatedly in the ribs, making him curl against the opposite side of the couch with a pained giggle.

“Fine!” he relented. “It’s – losing my hair.”

Peter turned even redder than he had been and hid his eyes in his hand. Wade did not think he was an asshole. He knew his tiny sweetheart was vain about his hair. It was one of the Top Eighty Cutest Things About Peter Parker. He let him know all of this by cooing and leaning across the couch to kiss him on the cheek.

“Don’t be scared of that, Baby Cakes,” he cajoled, preening. “I’m living proof that one can lose all of one’s body hair and still be devastatingly hot.”

“You are,” Peter said, giving him one of those looks that made Wade’s stomach do flips. He had been trying to be self-deprecating, but Peter said that like he actually meant it, and Wade just didn’t know what to do with that.

“Where does this fear come from, Sugar?”

Peter rolled his eyes and lay his head back against the couch. “I don’t know. Ben had a full head of hair in his fifties, but like, I don’t know about my dad. Would he have been bald by the time he was thirty-five?”

“Doesn’t baldness come from the mom’s side?” Wade asked, protectively stroking Peter’s fluffy, soft hair. “May has fantastic hair.”

Peter blinked at him. “May’s not related to me.”

“Peter, she’s your aunt.”

And the conversation quickly devolved into a giggle fest, but Wade kept it in his Brain Pocket. One never knew when such information would come in handy.

*~*~*

“You know how sometimes you tie me up and scare me?”

“Yes.”

“I like that.”

Wade looked at his tiny angel, who was wearing the most adorable of adorable smirks and blushing ever so slightly. He felt he could improve upon that.

“And what do you like about it, Spidey-pants?” he asked, squeezing his beloved’s knee where it rested on his thigh.

Sure enough, Peter’s blush deepened as his smirk turned into a full on grin. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t you?” Wade reached across the couch and laid his hand on Peter’s oh-so-fit tummy, nearly covering its whole width without even splaying out his fingers. He knew Peter was now blushing from head to toe, and he wished very much to see all that gorgeous skin turned pink and red just for him.

“No!” Peter insisted with a helpless laugh. “It’s ‘cause – you’re so big and strong and you’re so sweet and I love you and it’s fun when you pretend to be scary.”

Wade wasted no time scooping up his sweet sweetness and carrying him swiftly to their bed-chamber where he got a good look at every inch of Peter’s full-body blush.

*~*~*

Wade paced back and forth over the rooftop, the broken concrete crunching under his boots, trying to will his heart to stop racing. He was so fucking furious he could barely see straight. He heard the faint sound of a lithe body landing on the roof behind him.

“Babe –“

He turned around and saw Spidey actually pull back from him, and his mask was off, so he could see Peter’s face – he looked startled. Afraid.

Good.

“I didn’t know where you were,” he said, his own voice strange to his ears.

“I know,” Peter said, moving slightly towards him, hands out in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry.”

Wade realized he was still pacing and stopped. He took a deep breath and let it out. Peter was okay. They were both here, and they were both okay. He reached out to run his hands over his love’s slender body, checking for broken bones or stab wounds, finding none. He was fine. He pulled Peter to him, and Peter eagerly wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m so sorry, Wade,” he said into his neck.

He nodded, and it was okay, now that he knew where Peter was, now that he knew he was safe.

As they held each other, both of them calming down, he thought of the look in Peter’s eyes as he’d stepped back from him. In fear. He didn’t like the thought of his Spidey being actually afraid of him – he didn’t like the thought of anybody being afraid of him except Real Bad Guys.

But there was something exciting about spooking Spider-man, who could easily pick him up and throw him across a football field and probably score an extra point even. Peter had looked like he was afraid Wade was going to pull him over his knee like an errant teenager. He’d threatened to do as much before, another time Spidey had nearly gotten himself killed. He had half a mind to do so now.

“What can I do,” Peter asked, lips against his ear, voice decidedly more controlled, “to make it up to you?”

Wade considered, fingers curling protectively in Peter’s hair.

Then he got an idea.

An awful idea.

Okay, it was actually a fantastic idea. Maybe.

“Hair’s getting long,” he observed in a smooth voice. “I think you need a cut.”

He watched Peter’s lovely brown eyes go from curious to huge and startled – but then he bit his lower lip in that way that meant he was also the ittiest bit aroused.

Perfect.

*~*~*

“Hold still, Sweet Pea.”

Wade had cut Peter’s hair for him before. Peter had said that it was an infinitely better experience than going to a salon or a barber’s shop because it wasn’t ridiculously overpriced and he didn’t have to desperately try to make small-talk with someone he didn’t know and there was one-hundred-percent more Shower Sex afterward.

Usually, when Wade cut his hair, there was a lot of chatting and giggling. They pretended like Wade was the most sought-after stylist in the city and that Peter was his new client who was very shy but also delightfully flirty. They had whole back stories developed for both characters, and it was great fun.

Tonight, Peter was absolutely quiet. He held perfectly still as Wade combed out his wet bangs and carefully trimmed the ends with his professional-grade shears. He looked like he was trying not to throw up. Or cry. It made something dark and warm unfurl in Wade’s chest.

“Bit shorter, I think.”

Wade watched Peter’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, brown eyes watching Wade’s fingers as he snipped away. But he didn’t protest. When he was satisfied, Wade released Peter’s bangs and combed them back into the rest of his hair with his fingertips. They had actually turned out well, and he saw and felt Peter relax a little.

That wouldn’t do at all.

As he fished the electric razor out of their bathroom drawer, he heard Peter let out a shaky breath. That was better. He took his time plugging it in, then adjusted the towel he had draped around Peter’s shoulders, then checked the blade length. Then he turned it on.

Peter actually jumped a bit at the sound. Wade held the razor in one hand and made a show of examining the edges of Peter’s hair before finally pressing the covered blade against his little love’s cheek, grazing the hair that covered his ear. He saw Peter’s lips press together. He had turned absolutely white. He stared straight ahead.

As he carefully ran the razor along one side and then the other, Wade thought of how easily, how quickly Peter could take control. In an instant, he could shove Wade away from him, sending him through the fucking wall. Or he could take hold of Wade’s wrist and squeeze with a fraction of his strength to make him drop the razor, twist his arm behind his back, bend him over the sink, head pressed against the mirror, Peter’s much smaller body pinning him down so that he couldn’t move.

Or he could stop him just as quickly, just as effectively with a word. He didn’t even need to say “Red,” if he just said, “Stop,” then Wade would instantly turn off the razor, clean him up, cover him in kisses and take him to bed.

He knew Peter knew that. But he didn’t do it. He just sat there, obeying him perfectly, even though Wade could see that his eyes looked genuinely glossy now and he was biting his lip so hard that he had to be close to drawing blood.

Wade was so turned on that he was afraid he would suffocate.

Peter let Wade gently tip his head forward, but as he touched the razor to the skin of Peter’s neck, he heard a slight whimper escape his love. It made the protective part of him squirm, but he pressed on, carefully shaving away the too-long fringe.

Minutes later he had finished, his hand on the back of Peter’s head, holding his forehead against Wade’s stomach as he checked over his work, the razor still in his hand. When he finally let Peter raise his head, holding him lightly by the chin, he saw that his little spider had not actually shed any tears. He fought the urge to kiss him on the forehead and tell him what a good, brave boy he was being. That wasn’t what they were doing tonight.

“Was that scary, baby?” he asked, instead.

Peter looked up at him, eyes still wide and glassy, knowing Wade wasn’t done with him. “Yes, sir,” he said, voice just above a whisper.

Wade stroked his fingers through his love’s newly trimmed hair, enjoying the feeling, enjoying the thought that he’d made it that way. “I don’t know,” he mused. “I don’t think I’ve made enough of an impression.”

He heard Peter suck in a breath as he leaned down, slightly firming his hold on his Spidey’s chin. “You scared the shit out of me tonight,” he said, voice tightening with the memory. “I want to make sure you remember this. So you don’t do it again.”

He released Peter’s chin and stood up, holding the razor in both hands, right in Peter’s line of sight. “Maybe I should shorten the blade length on this thing,” he considered, casually, “give your whole head a once-over with it. You might look cute with a crew-cut.”

Peter didn’t move, he just stared, eyes fixed on the razor in Wade’s hands. Wade adjusted the blade length, watching Peter jump at the tiny sound. He turned the razor back on, cradling the side of Peter’s face with one hand and pressing the razor to the hair over his ear on the other side. He carefully trimmed back over the hair here, switching to the other side when he finished with the first, and Peter let him. It was verging on too short. Peter blinked, and two tears slid down either cheek, but he didn’t move, didn’t open his mouth, didn’t make a sound.

Wade turned off the razor and set it on the sink. He very deliberately ran his fingers through the longest part of Peter’s hair, then slowly, carefully, gripped. Peter took a shaky breath against the pain, nothing compared to what Wade had inflicted on him many times before -- with his belt, with his hand, with a switch – but made astronomically more intense because of their situation. Wade thought he could smell the fear hormones rolling off of Peter’s small body in waves. It made his head spin.

“Or maybe I should get out the straight razor,” he said, simply. “Lather you up, take it all off. Leave you smooth all over.”

Tears were now flowing freely down Peter’s beautiful face, but he remained absolutely still, quiet hitches in his breath the only sound that escaped him. He looked somehow calm. He would let him do it. He would let Wade take a straight razor to his scalp and shave off all of his lovely, perfect hair. If Wade told him to.

And that was the No More Point that Wade had been wondering when he would reach.

“But I would never do that,” Wade said, maintaining his hold on his beloved’s hair, “because it would be a goddamn sin.”

Peter released the tenuous hold he had over himself and let out a relieved laugh/sob. Wade knelt down and put his arms around his love, relishing the feeling of how small Peter felt against his body, how big he felt holding Peter to him, totally safe and protected.

His little spider clung to him and continued laugh-crying into his shoulder, sobbing with relief, apologizing over and over again for scaring him that night. Wade wrapped his arms even more securely around him and shushed him gently, reassuring him that it was okay, that he was okay now, that he’d done so well. He felt the chest pang that always accompanied Peter having a great big emotion, but it was overwhelmed by the warm, utterly satisfied feeling that ran all through him as he comforted his Spidey, pushing away all the delicious fear and anguish.

*~*~*

“What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Do you mean how you’re perfect?” Peter asked, popping a post-coital cheese-and-cracker into his mouth.

“I meant how scaring you so badly that you cry makes me painfully aroused,” Wade said, wryly.

“Like I said,” Peter replied, holding a perfectly proportioned cheese-and-cracker to his lips, “perfect.”

Wade couldn’t help but smile at Peter’s impish grin, obediently opening his mouth for the treat. “You’re okay, then? Not traumatized?”

Peter pushed aside the cheese board so that he could take Wade’s hand in his. “The last time we did fear play, you shoved a piece of metal into my dick. And I loved it. This was amazing.”

Wade giggled at the memory – sounding was surprisingly fun. “You’re sure you’re not traumatized from when I was really stupid earlier and you thought I died?” Peter asked.

“Well,” Wade shrugged, “no more traumatized than usual. You know I wasn’t doing that out of anger with you or anything, right, Honey Bear?”

“I know,” Peter reassured, leaning across to kiss him. “But it was fun to pretend. Gouda?”

Wade accepted the offered smoked cheese, then prepared a cheese-and-cracker for his beloved, and they took turns feeding each other until they’d eaten entirely too much and nearly had to roll to bed. He lay awake long after Peter began snoring adorably, holding his Spidey to him. He really was okay, mind and body. After a while, Wade started to believe it, and let himself drift to sleep. He kissed his beloved’s handsome face, his tiny, precious ear, and then his hair which, Wade had to admit, looked pretty goddamn good.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Blessings on I'mSoVain for this delicious prompt!
> 
> I shall endeavor to get back on schedule now with the request cue, and I shall try to get out one floofy age play and one smutty kink fill per week!
> 
> Next up: Uncle Steve hangs out with Lil Wade and Lil Peter, and Professor Peter gives his favorite student some private tutoring!
> 
> Tumble meeee: crockzilla.tumblr.com


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